


Give Me Freedom

by icandrawamoth



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [19]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gen, M/M, Pre-Rogue One, Pre-Slash, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Pirate captain Wedge captures a convoy of Imperial cargo shuttles including pilot Bodhi Rook. Bodhi has a choice to make.





	Give Me Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> For February Ficlet Challenge prompt "pirate au."

The convoy reverts to enter the system right where they knew it would, and Wedge grins sharply as he kicks his blood-red X-wing into motion toward the trio of shuttles and their half-dozen TIE escorts. "Here we go, people."

His band follow him, practiced and deadly, a flock of raptors surrounding their prey. Four of the TIEs are gone before their pilots can react to the pirates' appearance, and it's the work of only moments to dispatch the others.

Wedge positions himself in front of the lead shuttle as his fellows fan out to block any escape. He keys his comm. "This is Wedge Antilles of the Red Rogues. Imperial convoy, your escorts have been destroyed. You are surrounded. Surrender and your lives will be spared."

“The Empire will not be cowed by pirates!” an irate voice answers immediately. “Whoever you are-”

“That was your only chance,” Wedge cuts across him. “Tycho?” He watches as his second's X-wing swoops into view, strafing across the front of the lead shuttle. The shields are light; the shuttle barely has time to try a futile escape before Tycho returns for another run, and the transparisteel cockpit viewport shatters, venting air and bodies and debris into space in the split-second it takes for the emergency bulkhead to seal itself.

“Stop! Stop!” comes another voice, panicky and desperate. “We surrender!”

Wedge smiles grimly. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Ensign Bodhi Rook. Pilot of the central shuttle.” His voice shakes, but there's something else there, too. Anger, Wedge thinks. As if an Imperial deserves such things.

“You've made the right decision, Mr. Rook. You will instruct your fellow remaining pilot to follow your lead, and you will both slave your navicomputers to those of my men and follow us back to our base.”

“And how do you intend to take the ship you're damaged?” Rook asks snidely.

“We have our ways,” Wedge answers just as the _Pulsar Skate_ jumps into the system.

* * *

The journey back to base is refreshingly easy. Rook somehow convinces his fellow pilot to follow his orders, and the pirates escort the two ships on the flight back to the moon they call home and in for a landing. As soon he's on the ground himself, Wedge vaults out of his X-wing and joins Tycho beside the already-lowering ramp of Rook's shuttle as other members of his crew cover the other ship.

“Think he'll make trouble?” Tycho murmurs.

“I don't.”

A lone man appears at the top of the rank, skinny, tan-skinned, and black-haired, wearing a dark flight suit and goggles on his head. It can only be Rook. The expression on his face is one of fear mixed with an admirable if foolish sort of determination – determination that quickly fizzles away when Wedge and Tycho fix him with their blasters.

“Come out with your hands up, and bring the rest of your crew with you,” Wedge says calmly.

“A manifest would also be helpful,” Tycho adds, all politeness.

Rook's face twitches, but he calls back into the ship, and two other Imperials step out, hands raised, and follow him down the ramp. Wedge nods to his second, and Tycho steps onto the ship, blaster at the ready, to make a sweep.

Rook puts himself between his crew and Wedge, clearly fighting to keep his gaze steady as he stares down the barrel of the blaster. “What are you going to do with us?” he asks, and Wedge is impressed at how even his voice is.

“We're not slavers, if that's what you're worried about,” Wedge tells him. “After we find out if you know anything useful, you'll be given the opportunity to join our operation. Otherwise, I'm told we have quite a nice brig equipped for long stays.”

Rook's face twitches into a glare, and the other two look at each other and back to him. Before he can say any more, though, Tycho returns.

“All clear, boss. No more personnel. Cargo appears to be mostly foodstuffs.”

Wedge nods. Food isn't monetarily valuable, but it's certainly something they always need.

“I have-” Rook's hand twitches toward his pocket, and he blanches when Tycho's blaster comes up. “In my pocket. A datapad with the manifest,” he finishes shakily.

Tycho steps forward, weapon unwavering, and removes it. “Thank you.” Rook blinks at him like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard.

“Take these two to the brig for now, then see about getting everything unloaded,” Wedge instructs his second, eyes not leaving the pilot. “Mr. Rook and I need to have a chat.”

“I- No!” Rook protests as Tycho starts to heard his crewmates away.

“They won't be harmed; you have my word,” Wedge tells him. He slides his weapon into the holster and takes Rook's arm, steering him toward his office.

“Won't be harmed?” the pilot demands as soon as the door closing behind him, whirling on Wedge. “You're a pirate. A _murderer_. Do you have any idea how many people you killed today?”

“Nine,” Wedge tells him, looking him square in the eye. In his head, he can still see the bodies floating in space. “Three on the shuttle and six TIE pilots.”

Rook blinks as if he doesn't know how to respond to that, then rallies. “Some of those men were my friends. They were all just doing their jobs.”

“We don't enjoy killing,” Wedge tells him plainly. “Not even Imperials. But we gave them a chance to surrender, and they chose not to. The Empire doesn't give second chances, and neither do we.”

“Those TIE pilots-”

“Signed up to kill people,” Wedge says harshly. “Don't even try to deny it.”

Rook bites his lip and crosses his arms across his chest. “So you hate the Empire. You're Rebels then?”

Wedge scoffs. “No. The Rebellion is a political animal – committees and councils and bureaucracy. We're out here _acting_ , hitting our enemies where it hurts.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Wedge drops into his desk chair, a comfortable bantha-leather piece taken from a Moff's pleasure yacht they'd captured months ago. He decides he likes Rook's spunk, the way he puts it forth even in the face of his fear for both himself and his people. He decides to humor him. “Tell me, Ensign. What makes the Empire so good in your eyes?”

Wedge has to admit surprise when the young pilot bites his lip and looks away instead of answering. Not what he expected. “Nothing?” the pirate prompts.

Rook turns fiery eyes back on him, but Wedge watches as some of that fire burns lower. “It's just a job for me,” he says haughtily, as if he wishes he could be saying something else. “The Empire is nowhere near perfect.”

Wedge actually grins at that. “See, you're halfway to being on our side already.”

Rook glares. “I'm no pirate. I don't take people prisoner. I don't hold them indefinitely if they don't agree with my methods.”

“Not you personally, perhaps. But that's exactly what your Empire does – when it's feeling lenient.”

Rook lets out a breath at that. Even he can't argue.

Wedge spreads his hands. “By being a part of that, even in your limited capacity, you're complicit. That's not something you want, Bodhi.”

Rook's head jerks up at the use of his name.

“Become part of my crew,” Wedge goes on. “If you don't like our methods...perhaps if you convince us to trust you and whisper in my ear enough, we may change them.”

Rook looks torn. “If I do...you won't hurt any of the others?”

“I already promised you that. Though, by my side you'll be in a position to negotiate for them if you wish. And you can be a liaison between my people and yours. Perhaps some of them feel similarly to you. We might all be happy in the end.”

Rook makes a face, half surprise and half amusement. “Is that all a pirate wants, to be happy?”

Wedge waves the comment away. He hadn't meant for the conversation to go this way. He doesn't have time to think about what might make him happy. About dark hair and dark eyes in a place other than his office, the briefest fantasy of this man as partner for acts other than verbal sparring. “What do you say, Mr. Rook?” He holds out a hand.

The man hesitates, long and thoughtful, and just when Wedge things to withdraw, warm fingers cover his. His eyes meet Wedge's, a challenge. “I accept.”

Wedge grins. “Welcome to the Red Rogues, Bodhi Rook.”


End file.
